


Apologize and Move On

by Lazchan



Series: Tiger's Friendship [5]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, these two are my favorites, they need to have a talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 05:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9369863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lazchan/pseuds/Lazchan
Summary: Yuri confronts Yuuri over the thought of quitting; he isn't happy with the idea at all.





	

Yuuri  stopped so suddenly that Yuri was caught off guard—he'd been walking with him down the strip, in between reporters and fans and Viktor was off somewhere with the other coaches; leaving Yuri alone with Yuuri.

 

"What is your problem?" Yuri demanded. "We have to get back to your hotel, in case you've forgotten." He was exhausted, Yuuri _should_ be exhausted, but with that damn stamina of his, Yuri didn't know what to think. "We're done skating, katsudon." He gripped the back of Yuuri's jacket, intending to drag him along if he had to. He wanted his chance to grill Yuuri for the idiot decision he almost made and was going to do it without Viktor hovering in the background.

 

"I know, I know—" Yuuri pried off his hands almost absently. "I…I need to talk to someone first," he said, a  half-smile on his face. "You can wait if you want, Yurio or you can go to the hotel." He hesitated a moment, opening his mouth and looking as if he wanted to ask another question, but shook it off.

 

"You'd probably get lost and wander back to the rink," Yuri muttered. "And I'm going to talk to you about certain… choices," he glared at Yuuri. If he let Yuuri out of his sight, Yuuri would be back in Japan before he could blink and he'd never get a satisfactory answer.

 

"Ah…." Yuuri didn't even have the grace to look ashamed or confused, he just wrapped one hand around the badge that proclaimed he was a skater and hurried off towards one of the announcers—someone Yuri vaguely remembered from several programs and who had tried to talk to Yuuri at last year's GPX. Someone familiar enough with him to do so, but for all Yuri knew, everyone from Japan fell over themselves to talk to him.

 

Yuri kept close enough that he could listen—not that'd he'd _understand_ most of it. It wasn't likely that Yuuri would use English around someone from the same country as him. Still, it was interesting to watch Yuuri chasing after the announcer rather than the man chasing down Yuuri to berate him.

 

~

 

"Morooka-san!" Yuuri took a deep breath when the announcer turned at the sound of his name and then relaxed when the other turned a bright smile on him.

 

"Katsuki-kun!" Yuuri rubbed the back of head, offering a sheepish smile. "You did amazing out there—just like old times, you surprised everyone with your skating." There was a hesitance and the smile dimmed a little, turning uncertain. "Even more now—you really are the one that everyone in Japan looks at."

 

Yuuri felt his cheeks burn and he shook his head. He didn't come to get praise; he had to do what was right. He bowed deeply, hands clenching at his thighs. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "For… for disappointing everyone for so long."

 

"You never disappointed us, Katsuki-kun." Morooka's voice was kind and a little bewildered. "We always had faith in you. Now come on—straighten up. That's not how a silver medalist should act," he teased and Yuuri looked up at him again.

 

"I—I know," Yuuri fumbled over his words, bits of English slipping over into the Japanese and then back again. "I—wanted to thank you, for – for always supporting me. You and.. you and everyone else, but—" he rubbed the back of his head. "You never gave up on me, Morooka-san. You came to every performance of mine, no matter how far away it was."

 

"You're not quitting, are you, Katsuki-kun?" His voice was quiet enough, but shot through with absolute dismay at the idea and out of the corner of his eye, Yuuri saw Yuri start and step forward, eyes narrowed.

 

_He understands some Japanese, at least and I'm not surprised it's the word 'quitting', since he shouted it at me in three different languages the first time we met._

 

"I'm not quitting," he reassured Morooka,  waving his hands and laughing a little, even though his chest caught and the words came out reluctantly. It was still overwhelming to his mind; but moreso than before, he wanted to stay skating. Not just making circles around a rink or guiding younger skaters, but competitions like this was what made his blood sing. "I haven't won a gold medal yet," he grinned.

 

"Hmph. You haven't won one _recently_ ," Morooka snorted and gave him a half-hug, smiling brightly again. "And we'll be watching you as you win more over the next couple of years." He looked amazed. "I always had faith in you, Katsuki-kun. I've been following you for as long as you've been skating, even before I started reporting on it."

 

Yuuri stared at him, eyes gone wide in disbelief at the admittance that Morooka had been a fan for so long, but he decided to follow the other train of words first as he pushed his glasses up his nose. "I didn't think I was worthy of that, especially after last year, but…."  His gaze turned down to his shoes and for a moment, he almost felt dizzy with the floor not moving underneath his feet, without balancing on the knife's edge of skates. "Thank you so much."

 

Morooka pulled away and ruffled his hair. "Continue to make this old fan of yours proud, hm?" he asked. "I've gotta to go my own hotel—but you and Viktor and that other Yuri—" he gestured towards the slowly-growing-more-impatient Yuri. "I think all of you are going to set the world on fire. "

 

Yuuri stammered something, but Yuri was grabbing his arm and dragging him off this time and he only had time for a small wave before Yuri practically shoved him down the street. He turned a little and managed to slow him down. "Yuri—Yurio, jeez, stop a moment, would you?"

 

"You already wasted enough time," Yuri muttered. "I needed—I need to talk to you before Viktor hovers all around you and is gross and you can't give me an honest answer." At least their hotels were close by; rinks were popular with all sorts and even in the off season, this rink was a popular destination.

 

"… ahh.." Yuuri seemed to understand and with that quiet acknowledgement, Yuri wasn't as rough as they rode the elevator up to his room. They were both tired and strained from the day; there were other celebrations to go to—including the banquet—but Yuri was going to steal this moment for himself.

 

~

 

"What were you talking about with that guy?" Yuri looked back at the other, not wasting any time in questioning him. "I only got a little of what you said and I _know_ I heard the word 'quit' somewhere in that conversation."

 

"You focused on one word," Yuuri had to laugh, sitting down on one of the beds and rubbing at his eyes. "There were a  lot more being said, Yuri. I was mostly apologizing for—for putting on such a poor show last year. Morooka only wanted to support me and didn't understand …" he shrugged and gave him a sheepish smile. His next words were quieter. "Are you angry?"

 

"Speak up, katsudon," Yuri was glaring down at him, arms crossed and it would have looked more intimidating than it was if his hair wasn't falling half out of the arrangement he wore for his free skate, straggling down the side of his face. "Viktor said you were considering quitting. Why the hell would you even consider doing something so stupid? Is it because he was coming back to skate?" His brows drew into a deeper scowl. "Don't tell me that shithead convinced you that you couldn't skate anymore." Even with his angry words, they were half-hearted, as if he didn't really believe in his own accusation.

 

Yuuri stared at him a moment, expression unreadable as cycled through whatever was the best response to make. "Not really," he said, after the silence seemed to drag on. "I…I thought that—I was being selfish, keeping Viktor as my coach, when he wanted to skate again." He gave Yuri half a smile, but it was pained. "I'm not a genius at skating like you two are and….and I felt that it was enough time that I stole from him."

 

The next words stole Yuri's air away and made him want to haul off and punch the man for the next words. "You wanted me to quit when you first met me, Yuri."

 

He did reach out and grab Yuuri by the shirt, yanking him to his feet and glaring up at the shocked face. There were no tears this time,  but it was like before and Yuri cursed himself for reacting so predictably around Yuuri. "You are a bigger moron than I thought you were if you let _that_ get to you," he snapped. "You were at the Grand Prix, katsudon. Were you going to let some  screaming kid make you quit something you were good at?"

 

".. like I'm letting a screaming kid try and intimidate me now?" Yuuri asked mildly. "No—it wasn't you that made me want to quit. I never actually _quit_ skating, even if it took me awhile to want to skate again. When I practiced Viktor's program—"

 

"Which you showed off to the internet," Yuri interjected, rolling his eyes. That had been a stupid move, even if it had gotten him Viktor as a coach and Yuuri back to the Grand Prix.

 

"No," Yuuri shook his head quickly, relaxing when Yuri released his coat and stood back from him again. "I was only skating for Yuuko—I hadn't intended to quit then, but I was trying to reach out something I did as a kid, which was copying Viktor's routines. Yuuko and I used to practice that way, so I did it for her." He laughed a little, running a hand through his gelled hair, so that it stood up in ragged spikes. "I didn’t expect her kids to film it and upload it." His expression was almost ashamed. "I never wanted to return to the public view as this out of shape skater mimicking a routine."

 

It annoyed him how Yuuri still pulled the rug from underneath himself and his skills. "But… quitting?" he asked, voice more subdued. "When you were breaking your own personal bests and scaring the crap out of your competitors with how good you were doing?" He wanted to shake Yuuri again. "You qualified for the Grand Prix two years in a row, moron. I can't believe you wanted to quit after that."

 

Yuuri went to run a hand through his hair again and then paused, grimacing at the sticky gel on his fingers. "I don't think that way anymore, Yuri." His voice was quiet and calm. "I …" he laughed a little. "You know that I don't have the greatest confidence in myself and—" he shrugged. "I'm getting older. Skaters only last so long before someone replaces them."

 

"Hmph. You aren't anywhere near retiring yet and if you're going to use Viktor as an example," his tone clearly read _as you already have_ , "then he didn't hit his prime until your age." Yuri kicked at the bed next to Yuuri. "Idiot didn't even attempt half the shit you do, even when he was my age."

 

Yuuri stared at him, confused for a moment. "I… Viktor walked me through everything in my programs," he said. "The only thing I do outside of anyone else is the quad flip and Viktor's _known_ for that," he tugged at the edge of his jacket.

 

"No one attempts a quad like that at the _end_ of their program!" Yuri snapped. "Face it, Katsuki Yuuri. If you had decided to quit and run back to that inn of yours, teaching brats on unsteady legs instead of presenting me with a real challenge, I'd have done more than just kick you through the doors of your rink when I came to drag _you_ back.”

 

Yuuri's smile grew more amused as he looked at Yuri. "You're saying that you think I can beat _you?_ " he teased.

 

Yuri snorted and crossed his arms over his chest. "We both beat Viktor's Free Skate and Short Program," he pointed out. "One of us has the best chance to beat the other to swipe his overall record, too." He smirked at Yuuri. "Admit it, you'd be really pissed if I managed to do it while you were skating circles."

 

Yuuri laughed, more real and open. "Maybe you're right," he grinned. "The younger version of myself can't imagine it—but—" he looked down at his hands, stretching them out as if he saw something else beyond the room. "Even when I was your age, I dreamed about breaking world records. This is just one more to beat."

 

"Don't think you can take it that easily," Yuri snapped, but it was all amusement now and they both had  to laugh together. "You still have to beat _my_ record, too." He poked a finger in his chest. "And you're not going to do that by quitting. God, with your stamina, you're going to be a thirty year old grandpa on the ice before you quit."

 

"I won't be breaking records at that age, Yuri—" Yuuri protested, but stopped at the glare that was thrown his way. "Fine, fine—I'll be the oldest skater on the rink, just to make sure you don't break my records while I'm still skating."

 

"Damn right—and even if you're head over heels for that moron, don't let him hold you back either, not even unintentionally." Yuri was more fierce about this. "Yeah—so Viktor can skate and he loves it, but," Yuri's cheeks turned red. "He likes watching you skate more. You've done what he's done to people for years."

 

At Yuuri's questioning look, Yuri managed to give him a small smile and held out his hand. "You surprise him and other people. Don't stop now, katsudon. We've both gotta surprise the skating world together and I'm sure as shit not doing it with losers like JJ."

 

Yuuri laughed again and took his hand. "Sounds like a new start."

 


End file.
